Meeting Etiquette

Kenyans love meetings. As a result I go to a lot of them. You can have a meeting for pretty much anything. Sometimes it's a regularly scheduled meeting for a community group or staff meeting, other times there may be a guest coming to talk to people, outreach by a health clinic etc. Regardless of the reason meetings provide people with a chance to see friends and community members. Sometimes I genuinely enjoy meetings, but there are some key differences from meetings in Kenya, some of which drive me crazy. My biggest issue with Kenyan meetings is time. People will generally tell you a time a meeting is going to start. I have yet to see a meeting start on time. If a meeting starts within an hour of the proposed time I'm impressed. Now I tend to show up about an hour after the "start time" and still tend to be the first or second person to arrive. I am concerned about what this will result in when I get back to America and people intentionally show up early. A few days ago I was waiting for a meeting to start. When it was over 3 hours late starting I had to leave as I had a prior obligation. I feel like 3 hours is excessive. By that point I've usually run out of tasks to occupy myself and have become hungry, not unlike a small child. Meetings once they start take a long time. Several hours (2-3) is pretty standard. Part of the reason is that not only is there some sot of agenda, but the meetings tend to be more social and everyone must be properly greeted. Another reason meetings can seem never ending are the speeches that people give. If at any point a government official, community leader, special visitor, shows up a meeting the meeting will come to a halt as people expect that person, who is viewed as as honoured guest, to give a speech. The speech is almost never tailored to the group or subject of the meeting and can go on for a long amount of time. Thankfully the groups I work with no longer have me give introductory speeches. If there is a visitor however, I am expected to introduce myself through a speech to that person. It can be awkward. All visitors are expected to introduce themselves, which is typically a sentence or two, something that I think is fairly universal. When I specifically am dragged up to the front of the church to introduce myself, instead of being able to do so from the pew like everyone else, it can feel a bit uncomfortable. The most awkward was when I went to a pre-wedding (kind of like an engagement party but more formal) and my Canadian room mate and I were made to sit in the front of the church, in place of the bride's parents. Then we had to give a speech. My language skills were not sufficient, I had been at my site for less than a month and Magan (my room mate) refused to stand up. Afterwards the parents of the bride thanked us for coming and supporting their daughter, they were not upset about giving up their seats. That brings me to another quirk of Kenyan meetings---seating. Where you sit is important, as is what you sit upon as it shows your status. People are thrown off by the fact that I generally don't care where I'm sitting as long as there is shade. I am not a fan of the sun's ability to fry me. Most times I end up giving up and sitting wherever people tell me to, usually at the front near the chairman. I feel terrible when someone gives up their chair for me, but typically the refuse to keep it in spite of my insistence. The "committee" is usually seated in the best places. The committee is usually made up of the chairperson, secretary and treasurer of a group. Any guests or village leaders are given good seats as well. Next come men and then women, usually young women are the ones standing if there aren't enough chairs. Seating in such a way gives respect to important people and also can help direct a meeting as those leading it are clustered together. During meetings there are often several interruptions made by phone calls. Sometimes the person receiving the call will step a few feet away to take the call or even ignore it, but more often they will carry on a conversation. There is a group I work with whose chairlady has yet to take less than 3 calls during a meeting. I think it wouldn't bother me so much if she wasn't answering the phone while she was in the middle of a sentence. We all wait patiently until she finishes her calls and completes what she was saying. People don't think taking a call is rude. It may have something to do with the importance of greeting people, the newness of cell phones and the fact that placing a call costs money, but receiving one doesn't. Women who are breastfeeding bring their babies to meetings. There is no formula in the village, so until a child is old enough for porridge, the baby is entirely dependant on breast milk. Often other women want to hold the baby, much the in America. It's very different once the baby starts crying. The easiest solution is to feed the child, so the woman will begin breast feeding, sometimes in the middle of a speech, and that is totally normal. Breast feeding happens more often here likely due to the fact that n one in my village owns a pacifier. It is not scandalous to breast feed in public, unlike in America. Personally I don't understand why people freak out so much about it, maybe my view has been influenced by my time in Kenya. Meetings are generally fairly solemn affairs, sometimes there's soda, but otherwise not all that much happens. For that reason I will never forget the time a fight broke out during a dispensary staff meeting over how much money people should contribute for food. On that note, I think that's all I have to say about meetings in Kenya.

The Weight of Water

One of the most common sights in rural Kenya is a woman or girl carrying water on her head. People here will tell you that "water is life" and it is for that reason that women will walk for miles if needed to keep their families alive. In America water comes out of a tap in your kitchen, bathroom or a hose you hooked up to water your lawn. If you're lucky your water comes chilled out of a tap on your refrigerator door along with several kinds of ice. As an added benefit the water coming out of the tap and into your glass has been treated, meaning you won't be exposed to water borne diseases such as dysentery (I can tell you from experience you should count yourself lucky if you can avoid that one). Americans tend to use a lot of water. We use it to cook, wash clothes and bathe like people do here but in larger quantities. In Kenya you might use 10 liters of water for a bucket bath. I don't know how much is used in the average shower, but it's more than 10 liters, as is the capacity of your standard bathtub. Perhaps if Americans had to carry their bath water on their heads even just 1 or 2 blocks, they too would use less. I know I would because water is heavy. A liter of water has a mass of 1 kilogram, or roughly 2.2 lbs. Typically I never carried more than a 1 liter water bottle with me in America, but I did notice that it made my purse heavier. In Kenya I carry considerably more than 1 liter and I'm only an amateur. To get the water I use I have to options. I can leave buckets and basins out when it rains (which I do) or I can use one of the wells near my house. If the well outside my house has relatively clear water I can carry my water using my hands in small (10 liter) quantities making multiple trips if needed, which would only happen if I was doing laundry (I use 10 liters when washing my clothes by hand). So when I haul water out of the well by my house I am hauling roughly 22 lbs of water. 10 liters is also the smallest amount of water carried on one's head here, and typically it would be carried by a child. If I have to get water from another compound, like almost everyone in my community, then I carry it on my head. Carrying 10 liters is not too much of a problem, the hardest part for me at least is getting the bucket on my head because my arms can barely reach the top of the bucket once it has been lifted onto my head. I generally don't have to walk very far and there are no hills in my way so it's not too complicated. The more standard amounts of water to carry are 15 and 20 liters. If you're using a bucket it's more likely you would be carrying 15 as many don't hold 20 liters and you are less likely to fill it to the brim as you wouldn't want any of the precious commodity to spill. I can carry 15 liters on my head, which I think is acceptable considering that the water weighs roughly 33 lbs and is about 1/3 of my body weight (I was 105 lbs at our Close of Service medical). There are girls here though that must be 15 lbs lighter than me carrying 20 liters (44 lbs) which is insane because that's half of their body weight. When I was preparing to climb Mt. Kenya I read that it's not good to carry more than 25% of your body weight when hiking, which is what women and girls here are doing when carrying water. They are going up and down hills, though fields, down roads etc. balancing large quantities of weight on their heads and making it look effortless. Between carrying water, working in the fields, hauling and chopping firewood and all of the other tasks that make up their daily routine the women are hard working and strong yet friendly and eager to help out. Water isn't the only thing carried on heads here. I have carried firewood, baskets of dried corn kernels, brush etc. but here's a list of some of the common and/or strange things I've seen: food to be sold at the market, bundles of clothes, gas tanks, giant clay pots, a desk, tin sheets for roofing--I'll let you know if I see/remember anything else!

A Dollar A Day

I know it has been months since my last post but I'm aiming to make up for the lack of activity today. Let's just say I've been having technical difficulties. My time in Kenya is coming to an end. We had our Close of Service Conference a few weeks ago and ever since I've found myself reflecting on my time here when I'm not freaking out about what remains to be done. I have been taking pictures, something I had long been avoiding due to the riot caused by a camera in my village, which I hope to post once I am in an area with decent internet (realistically that may not happen until I get back to America in the first week of September). I had considered myself integrated into my community and thought that I was doing a better job of living like a local than the majority of Peace Corps Volunteers. I was however living off a larger budget than most of my community. To try and better understand the lives of people in my village I have been living off a dollar a day for a week and will continue to do so until I live my village in July. In the past week I have already made changes to my lifestyle, trips to town have been reduced, phone use has become virtually nonexistent, store-bought food has been reduced to a bare minimum of staples. I am primarily eating fruit, vegetables, corn flour and beans like most of my neighbors. Because I don't eat a lot I am able to purchase a wider variety of produce, provided it's available. I have not been having huge problems with keeping to my daily budget so far, 85ksh is plenty for me to eat, buy soap etc. but I am having to plan for my next trip to town. The cost for the journey is 100ksh round trip, so more than my daily allotment and as a result I have to save up for a week in advance, just like my neighbors who also have to save up for school fees, clothing, fuel etc. Many of them have small farms where they can grow some corn and beans, which helps, but recently there has been a sharp rise in school dropouts in my area because it has been months since the last harvest. Until we harvest again the food prices will remain high, some items will be unavailable, and many people will deplete their food stocks to dangerously low levels. Here's an example of what I spent/used yesterday: Oatmeal (5ksh), coffee (10ksh), sugar (2.5ksh), bananas (6ksh), beans (10ksh), kale (5ksh), onion (2.5ksh), garlic (2ksh), tomatoes (10ksh), soap (5ksh), oil (5ksh), other toiletries (5ksh), phone use (10ksh) money saved for next trip to town: 2ksh. Clearly I need to do a better job today. It adds up quickly. I doubt I'll buy another soda in my village, at 25ksh they're pretty steep! The fact that I can't buy a soda only helps me to understand the frustration of women in my community who can't send their children to school, or even feed them, because their husbands spend too much money on alcohol (a beer costs around 100ksh, local brews are cheaper but extremely dangerous). I'll keep you updated on how well I do keeping to the budget.

kids in kenya

Being a kid in Kenya is different than it is in America. Being a baby is similar in the sense that they are held often when first born and bundled up, but similarities end there. Kenyans take the baby clothing a bit too far. I have a hard time believing that a baby will freeze to death in 100 degree temperatures, but sure enough the babies have socks, hats, multiple shirts, jackets, blankets etc. One babies can sit up they tend to be a bit more on their own. Often times they are supervised by older siblings, like a seven-year-old sister or brother. Mamas help out when they can, but women in my community are constantly working as they tend to be the farmers, caregivers, problem solvers etc. in the family. Babies become tough as there are no pacifiers, toys or items for baby amusement. Babies start playing with the other children at a young age and small children tend to be pushed around a lot as they become inducted into the pecking order. Kids here are creative and the ones in my compound do an excellent job of making their own fun. My favorites have been when they used the clothing lines to zip line (I had to resist the urge to join in, something I was grateful for when the mamas starting beating the children for doing it--I'm not sure what they would have done to me), made swings (which proved to be highly dangerous but they had a great time) and when they made a sled out of half of an old jerry can. I like that the kids play outside for the majority of the day. They don't sit around watching TV or playing on the computer because generally those are not things that they have access to. In America people are perhaps overly concerned with the health and safety of children. Parents baby-proof their homes, feed their children pediatrician approved food, Lysol all surfaces and micro manage every minute of their children's time. In Kenya children have a degree of independence and responsibility that continues to blow my mind. Every once in a while a mama will acknowledge that something is unsafe for a child. I was concerned on day when a two-year-old was playing with a machete (I seem to be ok with four-year-olds using them as toys, I'm not sure what that says about my future parenting ability) and asked her if that was ok. She said he wasn't allowed because he was using it to chop at furniture. She wanted me to beat him for her, which I refused to do. I am constantly asked to beat people's children if they are too busy to do so themselves and I have yet to do so. Children are beaten at home and at school, something that would not be viewed as ok in America. Here it is the solution that they turn to. I have tried to introduce different forms of punishment but the mamas haven't taken me up on it. To say that I am uncomfortable with beating people would be a massive understatement. Kids in Kenya go to school. At least they should. Primary school is mandatory but enrollment does not seem to be enforced. The majority of small children in my community do seem to be in school though. High school attendance is low, especially for girls. Schools in Kenya vary, but generally speaking they are no where near as fancy as their American equivalents. Students take far more subjects simultaneously and learn by rote in classes at least double the size of those in America. It is not hard to see why many children struggle in their classes. Kids here play football (soccer) for fun. Typically they make balls out of old plastic bags. They are excellent football players, way better than the kids in America, because they play constantly. There are no organized sports though. Schools have teams and some students play on them but there are no community leagues. There are no music lessons, zoo camps, dance classes or any of the number of activities that fill up the schedules of kids in America. On the whole however, it seems like kids in Kenya are just as happy as kids in America. I think it would have been fun to grow up in my village and look forward to spending another year with the kids who live there.

my canadian

For six months during my time in Kenya I had a Canadian roommate named Magan. She became known as "my Canadian" due to the fact that there were two Megan's in my training group and it became really confusing. I made an excellent first impression, showing up sweaty and exhauted having just biked 20 miles and missed her welcoming celebration. I was not aware that she was going to be staying for six months, but I am very happy happy that she did. My Canadian came to volunteer with my first organization, and for a few weeks that's what we did. When everything started going down hill I was greatful to have a friend. I loved having a partner in crime when running around Kakmega looking for something to do, even if it was just sitting and drinking juice together on the steps of Nakumatt. My Canadian became an honorary member of Peace Corps, traveling with me to see other volunteers and helping with trainings in the community. When I had to move to my current village I brought my Canadian with me for the last few weeks she was in Kenya. I will always have memories of our time together, like when our bus hit a petrol truck, watching the lion king when I hadn't seen a movie in months, dealing with Skittles the cat, shopping for shoes and clothes in the market, chasing down the githeri lady (we loved her food a bit too much) and just hanging out. I'm sure that my Canadian and I will be friends for life, and while this short letter doesn't tell about our entire six months I think it provides a decent introduction.

How I Got My Birthmark

I have a large birthmark on my left ankle* It has become darker over the years, fading during the winter and returning with my freckles when the sun returns* My cousin Amanda first noticed it when I was 6 and we were on a roadtrip in Oklahoma* Like the birthmark on my neck it was barely noticeable* My mom scrubbed my neck aggressively for what seemed like years before she realized that it wasn't dirt* Based on my past experiance I shouldn't have been surprized by the reactions to my birthmark and freckles in Kenya, well at least not all of them* In Loitokitok my host mama thought I wasn't actually washing my feet everyday, it took me awhile to convince her that I was* When I went to Gatunga in Eastern Province everyday the women in the compound would wash their feet together* The first day they were concerned* The first sign was when they handed me a rougher cloth so that I could scrub more effectively* Then one of them started scrubbing, which I have to say hurt a lot, as I tried to explain the misunderstanding* When she went for the steel wool I freaked out and she backed off* Kenyans, or at least the ones I know don't have birthmarks* They have scars from vaccinations and cuts but otherwise their skin is flawless* My freckles and birthmarks confuse them* The majority of people think that I should have them lightened or removed* I don't agree* People have many theoies about how I got my freckles and birthmarks* One nurse at my dispensary was very concerned about my health one day because she thought that my freckles were mosquito bites and that I was going to have some serious malaria* Granted if they had been mosquito bites I would have had hundreds, something I'm not sure my Malerone could handle* Another woman at the dispensary had a creative theory about my birthmark that I enjoyed* She said that my mother must have drunk some strong tea (tea without milk aka black tea) right before I was born, when feet were higher than my head* The tea landed on my ankle and stained it* I then told her that story reminded me of my mother's "theory" about why I am so short* My mother says that when she was pregnant she wanted a cheeseburger in the middle of the night and asked my dad to go and get her one* He said no* My mom says had I received the benefits from that burger I would have grown up to be a lot taller* The women at the dispensary loved the story because it was something they could relate to and laugh about, a sort of old wives tale that showed that people all over the world make up the same kind of stories to explain things that they may not fully understand* The day I told that story marked the first day I truly became friends with two women at my dispensary* I have always loved my birthmark and freckles and although I don't completely understand why I have them I'm ok with that because sometimes a good story is more fun and I am thankful to Kenya for giving that to me*

One Year Down

I've officially been in Kenya for a year* The time for the most part seems to have flown by* A lot has happened during my time here, the majority wasn't what I had expected, granted Peace Corps told all of us not to have expectations* When I boarded the plane in Chicago in a sleep-deprived haze I thought I would be heading to a small, rural community where no English was spoken and food and water were hard to come by* A community like Gatunga that Women's Global worked with* I thought I would learn Swahili an be able to speak with the locals confidently* I thought I would struggle with dressing like a mama* I looked forward to learning to play the guitar* I had ideas of the food I would be eating (focused around millet and goat)* I thought I would miss the internet, a virtually unlimited calling plan & other technology I had come to take for granted* Coming from a fairly urban environment I worried about life in a small village and the lack of 24 hour anything* I wondered what illnesses I would contract* I had no ides what kind of work I would be doing* I thought I would live in my village for my entire service* My first site was in a large town and I lived in an office* My current site is a village where I live in a house made of mud and poop (the cow manure helps the mud stick, we use it to make charcoal balls for the same reason)* A decent amount of the villagers speak English which is helpful because I was not taught Swahili* I am trying to teach myself but it's going a bit slower than I would like* My village is lucky* We ave two sizeable rainy seasons which means we can grow a lot of food to eat and sugar cane to sell* We also do not have severe water shortages like other parts of Kenya, our wells rarely dry up* I was worried about dressing like a Kenyan woman* I have never enjoyed wearing long skirts and as I over heat easily I was concerned about a ban on tank tops* Initially I resisted, but over the course of the year I have assimilated, perhaps too much* In the village I frequently wear a head scarf* I have once again become a fan of big, baggy tee shirts that I pair with three long skirts* I have only worn pants in Nairobi since moving to my village* I bought a slip yesterday after some ladies I work with pointed out that my skirts were showing a wear* I can't remember ever voluntarily wearing a slip* I bought a dress to wear in Kisumu a few weeks ago, a dress I would have worn in Chicago during the summer, and freaked out and ended up wearing a shawl over it because my shoulders weren't covered and the dress was knee length* I also haven't had a good hair day since our wearing in ceremony, but then again I have no desire to wear my hair down due to the heat as well as all of the people who want to touch it* I bought a guitar in Nairobi and I have learned to play it, hopefully the right way as I'm primarily self-taught although I did have Lorenzo's help with chords and my brother talked me though bar chords in a rather expensive phone call* I love my guitar, it helps keep me sane* My diet was a bit varied when I had my roommate Magan but now it's less exciting* I live off fresh produce supplemented with oatmeal, soya, popcorn, ugali (made from corn meal and water kind of like polenta) & the occasional pasta or rice* I am essentially a vegetarian, which people in my village think is a bit odd* We don't grow millet here* I have eaten goat twice* I can use my phone for internet sometimes, but there will be weeks where I have no access and have to go to town to use it and then hope that there is power* I only seem to want the internet to check email, I am ok with not being able to do that often* I don't use my phone much, I send some texts and make a few calls* Sometimes I only make one call in a week* While the cost of airtime is small in terms of $ it seems like a lot on a Peace Corps budget* I love living in a small village, I feel safe here* Recently I've started freaking out a bit when I go to my market town* There's too many people* Large grocery stores that I am unfamiliar with can be overwhelming* The malls in Nairobi are intimidating* It will be interesting to see how I react to Chicago when I've had another year in Kenya* I thought I woul get some kind of freaky illness, I did have an ameba which I guess qualifies* I had a lot of issues that I hadn't anticipated* I drank over twice the daily recommended amount of water and developed cysts due to matatus* I also have been having lots of flash backs to oregon trail fyi dysentry is not fun* I'm still figuring out what my job is here* I work with a variety of community groups and at a local dipensary (CLINIC)* A lot of the work I do is farming related, I really didn't expect to spend my time digging in shambas, making charcoal and rollling balls of charcoal dust and cow manure with my bare hands but I actually seem to enjoy it more than my time at the dispensary* I love my village and neighbors* I have no idea of what to expect this year, but I'm looking forward to what's coming because I know Kenya will keep me on my toes*